A Measure of Gratitude
by ryagelle
Summary: Sunstreaker does have a spark somewhere in there--Mirage knows it. Oneshot drabble. Hound/Mirage, G1


A/N: This was written late last night for rageai to make her feel better. Since it met with her approval, I decided to go ahead and post it. It's not actually tied to any of my previous works, though it would probably fit into any one of them, so take it as you will. Oh, and it's unbeta'd, so any mistakes you see are mine and mine alone; feel free to point them out.

As always, my no own.

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"You saved my brother's life."

The soft voice startled Mirage out of the recharge he had just barely slipped into, and for a moment he blinked up at the ceiling of the medbay, disoriented.

"What?" he asked dumbly, unable to summon anything more meaningful through the dull pain that surged through his circuits from his freshly repaired wounds and the anesthetic that Ratchet had no doubt administered.

"My brother," the voice said irritably. "Sideswipe. You dragged him off the battlefield and saved him."

"…Sunstreaker?" Mirage asked, finally turning his head to see the yellow frontliner standing next to him with an odd expression on his face.

"Primus, Ratchet's really got you doped up good, doesn't he?" Sunstreaker said, frowning.

Mirage heard himself giggle with a sort of detached embarrassment. "I think so," he said thickly.

The Lamborghini grunted uneasily and scowled down at him. "This is a fragging waste of time," he muttered. "Go back into recharge, Mirage." He turned his back and began to make his way across the room to his brother's side.

The Ligier wanted to protest, wanted to say that he didn't take orders from the likes of Sunstreaker, but he was out again before the yellow mech reached Sideswipe's berth.

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"I honestly don't know if it actually happened, or if it was just a dream brought on by the pain meds, Hound," Mirage said quietly, listening to the soft hum of the scout's systems as they sat curled up together on his berth. Ratchet had released the blue Ligier earlier in the day with strict instructions to rest, and Hound had accompanied him to his quarters ostensibly to deter anyone from bothering him.

"Hmm. Doesn't really sound much like Sunstreaker," Hound said, rubbing a soothing hand down the former noblemech's arm. "But I suppose anything's possible. After all, you did pull Sideswipe to safety."

Mirage frowned. "I don't remember it," he said honestly. "I remember being shot at, and seeing Sideswipe take a hit, but after that it's all just a disjointed blur." He couldn't help the frustration that crept into his voice.

Hound shrugged. "It happens. You got hit too, you know," and the gentle teasing mixed with concern in his tone made Mirage smile slightly.

"I know," he whispered. He began to say more, but a sudden knock on the door startled both of them into jumping.

"Now who could that be…?" Hound muttered, getting up to answer the door. When he opened it, however, there was no one there—merely a wide, flat wrapped package. "Hey, 'Raj, someone left you a present," he said, walking over to hand the object to his lover.

Mirage stared at it curiously; scrawled at the top of the plain brown paper wrapping was his name in a graceful script. Below that were the words, "Don't let it go to your head." Frowning, he pulled the wrapping off—and gaped at what he held.

"Primus," he whispered reverently. Hound craned his neck to see. Cradled in the Ligier's hands was a breathtaking painting of the Towers, set against a darkened sky and lit brilliantly from within. The piece was as familiar to Mirage as its subject; he'd seen the replica on display often enough during his youth. It had always been one of his favorite works—and this was the original! Priceless beyond measure! He traced its surface with disbelieving fingers, feeling the little ridges of the brush strokes.

"It's beautiful," Hound breathed, staring in wonder. "I wonder who gave it to you?"

Wordlessly, Mirage tilted the painting so that his lover could read the name inscribed on the bottom corner; in the same flowing hand that had addressed the gift to Mirage was the name 'Sunstreaker'.


End file.
